politics - Thinking

One Last Word for the Rutgers Girls

So, the MH and I have been watching this Imus mess unfold together, which has been interesting since my beloved MH has quite a mouth on him, and is the first to admit that he’s been known to shoot it off inappropriately. But even the MH agrees that Imus was an idiot, especially after yesterday’s press conference by the coach and the team. We’ve spent all winter watching high school basketball together, and those girls are only a year or two older than our girls team (who performed much better than the boys did this year).

They’re just kids those girls, and they were so dignified, and so eloquent about what Imus’s stupid comments cost them. But what I missed, what I was waiting for, was a little fire in the belly. Yes, they’ve suffered damage — but no stupid comments from some radio host can take away their astonishing season unless they let him. I hate the politics of victimhood. Those girls are nobody’s victims. Sure, they were hurt and embarassed and horrified by this incident. Sure, they had their accomplishments denigrated in a particularly sexist and racist way and that is a horrifying thing to confront (there’s a particularly good piece behind the Times firewall on the misogyny that is still ubiquitous in sports).

But the thing is, those girls are still the accomplished athletes who outperformed everyone’s expectations this year. And most of them are only freshman and sophmores. Where was the defiance? Where was the comeback? Where was the attitude? I wanted a little of that out of them yesterday — where was the declaration that if this is what they could accomplish this year, well, just wait until next year? The best comeback for someone stupid like Imus is to come back next year and win the whole thing. Go girls. Get back on the court. Look what you did — and now go shoot for the whole shebang. Tap into your anger and use it for something useful — Show them all. We know you can do it.

I'm a writer and editor based in Livingston, Montana. I moved to Livingston from the San Francisco Bay area in 2002 in search of affordable housing and a small community with a vibrant arts community. I found both. LivingSmall details my experience buying and renovating a house, building a garden, becoming a part of this community. It also chronicles my efforts to rebuild my life after the sudden death of my younger brother, and closest companion, Patrick in a car wreck.

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